Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6)

Aunt Bessie Finds

 

An Isle of Man
Cozy Mystery

 
 
 

Diana
Xarissa

Text Copyright
©
2015 Diana
Xarissa

Cover Photo
Copyright
©
2015 Kevin
Moughtin

 

All Rights Reserved

 
 
 

To the wonderful
people of the Isle of Man who made

us
so welcome when we
lived there.

Author’s
Note

 

Welcome to the sixth book in the Aunt Bessie, Isle of Man Cozy
Mystery Series.
 
The book titles are
in alphabetical order so that you can be sure you are reading the series in the
right sequence.
 
Every book is
designed to stand
on its own,
but I think they’re best
read in order so you can watch the characters grow and develop.
 

For those of you who don’t already know, Aunt Bessie began her
existence in my Isle of Man Romance
Island
Inheritance.
 
She was the source
of the inheritance there, so I’ve set the cozy mystery series about fifteen
years before the romance, beginning the series in March 1998.
 
The series moves along slowly, each book
being set in the month following the previous book.
 

There are characters
who
appear in both
series (obviously, they are older in the romance series), so if you read the
romances, you’ll find out more about some of the characters in Bessie’s
world.
 
You don’t need to read the
romances to enjoy Bessie, and each romance is meant to be a stand-alone title,
although some characters do appear in more than one book in that series as well.

The romances and the cozies are both set on the Isle of Man.
 
It’s an amazing little island in the
Irish Sea.
 
While it is a crown
dependency (relying on the British Crown for defense and immigration control,
among other things), it is an independent country with its own government,
stamps and currency.
 
It is
approximately thirty-two miles by fourteen miles, which means you are never far
from the sea, but each part of the island has its own unique character.

Around eighty-five thousand people are lucky enough to call the
island home.
 
Many find employment
within the banking and finance sector, but tourism, farming and even the space
industry also offer opportunities to residents.

The cover photo shows a section of the sunken
gardens on the Douglas Promenade.
 
The photo was taken in 2014, so it isn’t exactly how things would have
looked in Bessie’s time.
 
If I had
known when I moved to the island in 1998 that I would one day be writing these
books, I would have taken a lot more photos of the scenery for cover art!

 

This is a work of fiction and all of the characters within it are
fictional.
 
Any resemblance between
them and any real person, either living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
 
The names of shops and businesses on the
island are fictional as well.
 
Manx
National Heritage is real, but the employees of MNH in this story are entirely
made up.
 
Similarly, the Isle of Man
Constabulary is real, but the policemen and women in this book are entirely
fictional (and probably don’t behave at all like they should).

All of the Bessie books are written using British English, with a
smattering of Manx thrown in.
 
Please see the Glossary of Terms and Notes in the back of the book for
translations and explanations.
 
As
I’ve been living in the US for the last six years, it is probable that a few
Americanisms and American spellings have snuck into the text.
 
I do
apologise
for that and if you point them out to me, I’ll correct them.

I hope you enjoy this little peek into life on a small island.
 
I greatly enjoyed the time I spent living
there and I hope to return to the island one day.

 

Chapter One

It was early August and it was already quite warm when Bessie woke
up on a sunny Tuesday morning.
 
She
glanced at her clock and smiled to herself.
 
It was one minute after six, the perfect
time to wake up, at least in her opinion.
 
She stretched and then got out of bed and had a quick shower.
 
After patting on her rose-scented
dusting powder and getting dressed, she headed down the stairs to her small
kitchen.

It was too warm for toast, she decided, so she fixed herself a bowl
of cereal with milk to go with her tea.
 
It was never too warm for tea, of course.
 
Breakfast out of the
way,
she headed out for her regular morning stroll along the beach.
 
She’d been walking up and down this
beach for more years than she wanted to remember, and the addition of a row of
holiday cottages a short distance from her home didn’t interfere with her
routine.

The cottages were full to overflowing this time of year, of course,
but as it was still quite early in the morning, Bessie had the beach almost
entirely to herself.
 
In a short
while, as small children began to wake up, the beach would begin to feel quite
crowded.
 
By that time, however,
Bessie would be busy with other things.

Back at her own little cottage, Bessie forced herself to focus on a
few projects she’d been putting off.
 
She’d given a paper at the Manx Museum in May and she’d never finished
editing it for publication.
 
The
deadline for submitting it was fast approaching and she knew she couldn’t put
it off any longer.
 
In the spare
bedroom she used as an office, she got down to work.

By eleven she felt like the end was in sight.
 
A couple more hours on another day would
finish the job.
 
Now she had to get
ready for lunch with a friend, though.
 
Bessie changed into a light cotton dress and added matching low
heels.
 
She combed her short grey
hair and added just a light dusting of makeup to her face.
 
She frowned at the sticky feeling the
lipstick she applied gave her lips.
 
She rarely wore makeup and every time she did wear a bit she remembered
why.
 
With one last glance in the
mirror,
she headed back down the stairs.

Having never learned to drive, Bessie relied on friends, public
transport and a small taxi service to get her around the island she called
home.
 
She’d booked today’s taxi
several days earlier and now she waited impatiently for the driver to
arrive.
 
Bessie hated being late for
anything, even something as casual as lunch with a friend.

She needn’t have worried, though, as Dave, her favourite driver,
arrived right on time.

“Good morning, Bessie, my dear,” he said as he climbed out of the
car to hold the passenger door open for her.
 
“My schedule says you’re off to Douglas
this morning.”

“Yes, I’m having lunch with a friend,” Bessie told him.

“I do hope you’re all recovered from all of the recent
unpleasantness,” Dave said, looking at her intently.
 
“I’d hate to think my favourite
passenger wasn’t at her best.”

July had been a difficult month for Bessie, on top of several
unsettling events in the months that preceded it.
 
Bessie was still recovering emotionally
from it all.
 
She was starting to
think that a change of scenery might be nice and was thinking seriously about a
visit to Derbyshire.
 

She’d recently met the Markham sisters when they had been
holidaying on the island.
 
She and
Janet Markham had been corresponding back and forth since the sisters had
returned home.
 
Janet was very keen
on having Bessie visit them and Bessie was beginning to think that some time
away might improve her mood.
 
Dave
didn’t need to hear all of those things, though.

Instead, Bessie smiled at the man.
 
“I’m fine,” she told him, the words
coming slightly more easily off her lips now than they would have even a week
earlier.
 

 
“That’s good to hear,”
Dave told her.
 
He started the car
and pointed it towards Douglas, chatting amiably with Bessie about nothing at
all as they went.
 
He dropped her
off, as requested, on the Douglas promenade.
 

“I’ll have to ring when I’m finished,” she told him.
 
“I have no idea how long I’ll be
visiting.”

“I’m going to stay in Douglas for a while,” Dave told her.
 
“I have a few hops around the area to
do.
 
Hopefully, I’ll still be here
when you’re done.”

“That would be nice,” Bessie told him with a smile.
 

She made her way across the promenade towards a short road that ran
behind it.
 
Her friend lived in a
small flat in a fairly recently built building just behind one of the hotels
that made up the bulk of the properties along the sea front.
 
A moment later, she was pressing the
buzzer for her friend’s flat on the panel by the front door.

“Hello?” a voice crackled at the intercom next to the door.

“Bahey?
 
It’s Bessie.”

“Ah, come on up.”

A moment later a loud buzz filled the small entryway as Bessie
pulled on the glass entry door.
 
The
door suddenly unlocked and opened, allowing Bessie to step into the tiny
foyer.
 
There was a rather fat man
with untidy hair sitting behind a small desk in one corner, and he smiled at
Bessie.

“Do you know where you’re headed?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks,” Bessie replied.
 

Bahey had given Bessie very specific instructions for finding her,
so now Bessie pushed the call button for the lift and waited patiently for it
to arrive.
 
She could feel the man
at the desk watching her and she had to force
herself
not to turn around and speak to him.
 
Bahey had warned her that once you started a chat with the building
manager, you’d be there for hours, and Bessie didn’t want to risk being late
for lunch.

The car finally arrived and carried Bessie up to the first
floor.
 
Bahey’s
flat, number eleven, wasn’t far from the lift.
 
Bessie lifted her hand to knock on the
door, but Bahey pulled it open before she knocked.

“There you are,” Bahey exclaimed, putting Bessie into a hug.
 
“I was worried that Nigel had started
talking at you.
 
I was afraid I was
going to have to come down and rescue you.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I
remembered your warning and I completely ignored the poor man,” she told her
friend.

“Ha, the poor man kept me talking so long one day when I went to
get my post that my dinner burned up,” Bahey replied.

“Which just meant that I had to take her out for a meal, instead,”
a rich baritone chimed into the conversation.

Bessie smiled at the man who’d joined Bahey in the doorway.

“Ah, Bessie, you remember Howard, right?” Bahey asked, flushing.

“Of course I do,” Bessie said with a smile, as she took the man’s
outstretched hand.
 

“Anyway, you should come in,” Bahey said, clearly somewhat
flustered.

Bessie smiled and followed the others into the flat.
 
The entryway opened into a living space
that was larger than Bessie had been expecting.
 
The room was graciously furnished with a
mix of antiques and modern pieces that had obviously been carefully selected
and arranged.

“This is lovely,” Bessie exclaimed.

“Thanks,” Bahey blushed.
 
“The Pierces gave me a lot of bits and pieces over the years and I have
a few things that were my mother’s as well.
 
Joney
had the
lot until I moved back, but I dare say she was happy to offload some of them to
me now I’m settled here.
 
Her house
was already full when mum died.”

Bessie smiled.
 
“It’s
amazing how much we accumulate without even trying,” she said.

“I moved over here with next to nothing,” Howard told her.
 
“My daughter and her husband moved into
the house that my wife and I had shared.
 
When I decided to move across here, I figured it would be better to
leave the furniture and everything else with them and start fresh.”

“How long have you been here?” Bessie asked.

“About six months,” Howard replied.

“And is your flat just about full already?” Bessie couldn’t help
but ask.

Howard laughed.
 
“Absolutely,” he said.
 
“I’m
running out of places to put things, which is silly, because I don’t feel like
I’ve bought much of anything.”

“There isn’t enough storage in these flats,” Bahey said.
 
“I ran out of room ages ago.
 
I keep buying more wardrobes and
cabinets to put things in.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I have
two spare bedrooms and I haven’t enough space for all the things I’ve acquired
over the last, um, many, many years.
 
Although my biggest problem is books.”

Bahey shook her head.
 
“I don’t read all that much,” she said.
 
“Although I’ve been doing more of it in
the last few years than I ever did when I was working.
 
I try to get all my books from the
library, though, so that I don’t end up keeping them.”

Bessie grinned.
 
“I
should do more of that,” she said.

“Oh, but please have a seat,” Bahey said, shaking her head.
 
“I don’t know where my manners are
today.”

Bessie sat down on a comfortable-looking sofa that was angled to
take in the view out the large window.
 
From her seat, she had a somewhat obstructed view of the promenade.
 
Mostly what she could see was the back
of the hotel and their small car park.

“I know the view isn’t much,” Bahey said with a sigh.
 
“I can see more of the sea from my
bedroom, though, and the location is very convenient.
 
I couldn’t have afforded a flat with a
real sea view.
 
Those buildings are
very expensive.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re in this building,” Howard said with a smile.
 
“Otherwise, we might never have met.”

Bahey flushed.
 
“There
is that,” she said, looking down at the floor.

Bessie smiled at her friend’s reaction.
 
She’d known Bahey for many years, as
Bahey had grown up in
Laxey
, where Bessie had lived
since the age of eighteen.
 
Bahey
was about ten years younger than Bessie, so Bessie rather felt as if she’d
watched the other woman grow up.
 
Bahey
had spent most of her working years across, as nanny and then housekeeper to
the wealthy Pierce family.
 
The
family had spent every summer on the island, though, so Bessie had never
totally lost touch with her friend.

After some thirty years of service, Bahey had retired a few years
ago.
 
She and Bessie were working on
renewing their friendship in spite of
Bahey’s
decision to settle in Douglas.
 
As
far as Bessie knew, Bahey had never dated when she was younger, and Bessie was
enjoying watching her friend working cautiously into something like a
relationship with Howard Mayer.

Bahey was around Bessie’s height, with grey hair and brown
eyes.
 
She tended towards plump, but
Bessie was sure that her friend had trimmed a few pounds from her frame
recently.
 
Howard was several inches
taller than the two women, and mostly bald.
 
His eyes were grey and they sparkled
with a real enthusiasm for life that Bessie found attractive.
 
He seemed kind and his old-fashioned
manners added to his appeal.
 

Now he smiled at Bessie.
 
“My flat is right next door,” he told her.
 
“So I have a rather similar view.
 
It was the first flat that I saw that
was within my budget, and I was thrilled to have even an obstructed view of the
sea.
 
Bahey tells me that you have
wonderful views from every room in your cottage, though.”

Bessie smiled.
 
“I live
right on the beach,” she replied.
 
“But I bought my cottage so long ago that it was very affordable.”

Other books

A Royal Affair by John Wiltshire
The Gun by C. J. Chivers
Shadow on the Highway by Deborah Swift
A View from the Buggy by Jerry S. Eicher
Open Mic by Mitali Perkins
Bring Your Own Poison by Jimmie Ruth Evans
This Christmas by Jane Green
Corey McFadden by Dark Moon


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024